


The Misstep Prince

by Vtas



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pre-Canon, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Worth Issues, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-07 10:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vtas/pseuds/Vtas
Summary: When Ezran and Callums afternoon adventure goes awry Harrow gets a startling look at the way Callum views himself and his role in the royal family. He tries to figure out where he went wrong, but mostly he just wishes Callum would ask for help when he needs it, and stop hiding his suffering.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for this fandom, I just binge watched all of season two and I couldn't find a fic like this and it wouldn't leave me alone so I wrote it. Please excuse any errors as I wrote this all in one sitting, and if it doesn't exactly fit with the cannon timeline I don't particularly care, but feel free to let me know if you notice any glaring errors. 
> 
> I know almost nothing about injuries and actual medicine so don't take any of this as medical advise or realistic, that said if you want to correct where I'm wrong about medicine I'm always happy to learn! (but I want my whump so the story may remain as it is, unless you give me reason and method to make it worse!)
> 
> [For those of you coming back the fic and its summary are currently under significant revision/editing]

Ezran had wanted to go on an adventure and Callum, the ever dutiful older brother, went with him.

He should have known something like this would happen, Ez had found a young bird that had fallen out of its nest on a craggy hill which had just enough of a grade to not quite be a cliff. While Callum _had_ offered to place the fledgling back into its home it seemed to only trust Ezran, squawking and pecking Callum’s hands when he tried to pick it up.

So naturally Ez had climbed the uneven rock face himself, Callum anxiously spotting him from the base of the hill (sure Ez its a hill, _definitely_ ). Callum was never one to deny his brother and he waited patiently because at least he could let Ez be his own person and have some reckless fun, at least once in a while, someone had to. 

As Ez got the bird into its nest and went to venture down Callum realized the boy was trying to scramble, forwards down the hill, “Ez! No! Turn around! Walk down like a crab! With your hands behind you to stabilize yourself!” He shouted as he mimed the awkward, but safe way to descent. As he spoke he could tell Ezran already had too much momentum and was having too much fun letting gravity pull him in a half controlled run to safely look up, but look up he did, and immediately tripped on one of the rock outcroppings.

Callums breath froze as he saw Ez pitch forward, accidentally kicking further of the cliff-side till he was in free-fall. Callum ran towards him and managed to catch Ez around the middle, turning with the motion as he let himself fall to the ground underneath Ez. As Ez hit him hit the ground he could feel something in his side pop and winced before trying to to catch his breath with the weight of the crown prince on top of his lungs. A shaking crown prince.

He thought he had protected Ezran from the ground, had he hit something, gods, had he hit his head? But no, Ez’s head was safe on Callum’s chest. As the ringing and the bloodrush in his ears cleared and Callum realized Ez was laughing. Like he hadn't just jeopardized the line of succession for a bird. 

In. One, Two, Three. Out. One. Two. Three. 

“Hey bud, you ok?”

“Yah! Callum! You saved me! Oh you’re the best big brother!” a bone crushing hug that made Callum feel like something was shifting out of place “That was sooo scary! But then I could tell you would catch me and I was safe and if was fun! I get why birds love flying so much if it feels like that!”

Callum finaly got another word in edgewise as Ez ran out of breath “you mind getting off me? The ground is not exactly comfortable, and with those jelly tarts you aren't as light as you once were!”

“Hey! I’ll have you know-” Ex cut himself off abruptly with a wince as he got to his feet.

“Are you ok?” 

“Yah I think I just-”

“Did you twist your-”

“-twisted my-”

“-Ankle when you fell”

“-Ankle when I fell”

Both just a little to awkward and a little too proud to let the other finish the thought for them. As the overlapping sentence faded into a semi-awkward silence the two boys grinned at each other, wry and companionable.

“Well how about this, I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the castle - If! - if you let me take you to the infirmary and get that ankle looked at as soon as we get back," He paused to give the limb in question a further accessing look "but first let me wrap it so it doesn't get jostled in the trip”  
“Callum I’m fine! I just rolled it a little bit! I’ll be ok, you don’t have to fuss!” despite the protest Ezran still held out the ankle in question, letting Callum wind his ever-present scarf around the joint.

“And that cliff was definitely just a hill, I know. But you're still getting that checked out ” Callum tried to ignore the way the something in his chest had gone from some sort of dull wrongness to a sharp discomfort as he knelt down to get Ezran onto his back.

They had been running around in the forest for a couple hours before Ez had found the bird that had caused all this trouble and while Callum was sure which direction the castle was he was less sure of exactly how far from it they were. But regardless of the earlier ribbing Ez was still just a kid and he wasn’t very heavy. Callum tried to ignore the way the extra weight made the pain in his ~~chest~~ , his side, the pain in his side, flair when he breathed too deeply.

Callum tried not to let the pain sour his mood as they fell into their usual conversational roles. Ez with near nonstop rambling to fill the quite, Callum interrupting with the, maybe more infrequent than usual, wry remark. 

They(Callum) had been walking for maybe half an hour when the pain and Ez’s weight started to really take its toll on him. He had tried to hike Ez a little higher onto his back to better carry the weight but the motion caused the pain in his chest blossom enough that he bent forward with a breathless little keen. He felt the wrongness slip somehow deeper and he was sure if he thought too much about it he would make himself nauseous, which he decidedly did not need.

“-Callum! Are you ok?” Ez cut off his own rambling at the movement.

“Yah! yah, I’m fine.” he searched for an excuse “I just, ah, slid on a little patch of mud, you know how rainy its been lately” He turned his face to the overcast sky and a little back so Ezran could see his expression over his shoulder. He comically scowled and straightened his sholders in a way that made it clear that if he were not holding Ez’s knees he would be shaking a fist at the wall of grey cloud that had been lingering for the past week.

“Ookay,” Ez drawled, a little taken aback at his brothers sudden hatred of the sky and still a little skeptical “you know I can walk for a bit if you are getting tired.”

Callum knew it meant a lot for his brother to offer to end a piggy-back ride early but no “Nah, Ez, you aren't heavy. And anyway walking on a bad leg is how you end up actually needing a cane, no, not in a cool way like Lord Verin” he could feel his half-brother tensing to retort on his back (in the shifting it caused ~~in his chest~~ in his side, his side.) “really it’s fine.”

And Ez went back to his rambling about whatever it was he had been talking about. Callum usually listed, really! But he couldn't get rid of the images his own words stirred up. Ezran, sitting in windows staring at the forest, unable to explore like he so clearly needed. Ezran, just past twenty looking so much like his father, using a cane to hobble down the aisle for his own coronation. Ezran, seated on his throne, with a cane next to it sending faceless generals off to war, unable to lead the fight himself.

Ezran, murdered as he limped through his own gardens, the only place where he’s able to be alone, where he isn’t being watched, by assassins sent by the same faceless general. His funeral as everyone makes good at the pretense of mourning while Callum flees the castle to the sound of the whispers he would hear his whole life. It would start with ‘The poor crown prince’, ‘too bad his bastard of a brother couldn’t have been crippled instead’, it would be a concerned ‘the new king looks unwell’ and as time passed they would grow more bold ‘why is he willing to risk our lives if he won’t risk his own?’, ‘if he’s too weak to lead us to war you have to wonder if he’s fit to lead’. Until it became just accepted but never said freely ‘we need someone stronger’, ‘I hope nothing befalls the dear’, and when that fateful day came Callum was sure he would not stick around long enough to hear that after ‘the king is dead’ there would be no ‘long live the king’ no, not when strength and unity would be what was needed. He knew that should Ezran fall before he had his own heirs Callum would be fleeing, not ascending.

The feel of his still living half-brother stirring on his back draws Callum out of his somber reverie and he re-engages with the aimless chatter. As they reach the part of the forest that Callum knows well, surely no more than twenty minutes from the castle, the tightness in his chest increases and his breath turns yet more shallow as he can tell that not all the sweat on his brow is from exertion. The chill of the cold sweat shakes him and eventually the hitching in his breath gets to the point where he can't help but cough.

And he tastes iron. 

Not much he tells himself, just a splash up the back of his throat. He quickly swallows it down, licking his lips and hoping that none got on his face or clothes. For once he is glad that Ezran cant see his face when he’s giving a piggy-back ride, between the pained expression, the sweat, and that he is sure Ez would figure him out in a moment. As it is he deflects concern, blaming allergies and then monitoring his breathing to avoid coughing again the rest of the way to the infirmary.

The infirmary itself is near the entry to the castle so the princes don’t run into anyone before they make it into the hospice room. Which, itself, is empty, Callum turns around in front of one of the beds and drops ezran backwards onto it, quickly mopping his face with his collar as Ez bounces with the drop and laughs.

“I’ll go get someone from the back, you stay seated mister!” Callum throws over his shoulder as he walks to the attendants office to the far end of the room. 

He knocks on the door “Excuse me?” he's not sure which of the staff is on today, the doctors take turns attending the castle itself and the surrounding town as Harrow doesn’t want any undue suffering among his people arising from the selfishness of royalty. It's a system Callum can appreciate, but between it and the infrequency of his visits he’s never actually learned the names of the infirmary staff. 

After a few moments and a second, less timid knock, the door opens “Hello? Ah, Step-Prince Callum, are you alright?” the slightly heavy set man’s nature is affable but slightly lackadaisical as he opens the door.

“Oh, uh, I’m fine, it’s just Ez,” for a moment the kindly mans face darkens “ah the prince, uh Prince Ezran, it’s just while we were in the forest Prince Ezran tripped and I think he may have twisted his ankle so I wrapped it and didn’t let him walk on it and gave him a- and carried him here and I thought he should get it looked at and taken care of?” the words come stuttering out of him, then all at once in a rush and then he trails off at the end as he loses track of his breathing and the pain in his chest is now pulsing with every attempt to catch his breath despite it.

But the doctor doesn’t notice as he rushes past Callum “The Prince! Why didn’t you say so!” his voice, naturally booming is near overwhelming when he hollers, already halfway to Ezran, to his assistants in the back room “You two come out here and give me a hand! One of you go find the King! He’ll want to know, but don’t interrupt anything too important! I doubt a twisted ankle will be too serious” he raps his knuckles on a wooden cabinet as he reaches the bed Ez is sitting on. Callum gets pushed to the side as the two apprentices rush out of the back room, one with rolls of bandages and a few jars in hand, the other empty handed, making a beeline for the door to the hallway. 

Callum lets his shoulders drop and lets himself cough as he collapses into a chair just close enough to Ez to hear what's being said while still far enough away as to not get in the way of anything, and maybe intentionally where he can see Ez, but Ez would have to turn to see him.  
As he coughs he feels more blood come up and remembers why he had been trying so hard to avoid it. He wipes his mouth on the inside of his sleeve and curls his legs up onto the seat of the chair.

He’ll just breathe carefully, and wait for the doctor to do what he can for Ez. The adrenaline and focus from his self appointed task start to fade as he pulls open his sketchbook to draw as he waits. He didn’t remember his lines being so wavy before, he thinks as he leaves his way through, trying to find the next clean page. And why is the Doctor talking so loudly without saying anything? His words a meaningless slur, but it's probably just medical jargon and Callum isn't really trying to understand. But the volume of it alone is kinda distracting. 

Now that he's sitting the world itself seems to be moving for him, everything pitching and rolling in a kind of unnatural way. Callum gets as far as outlining the beak of the bird and the pad of his brother’s finger gently crooked underneath it, before the pencil drops from his hand, drawing an aimless line down half the page as he passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Harrow gets the news and is glad for an excuse to end his boring meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the chapter I sat down meaning to write but I quickly realized it was needed for the next one to be able to turn out right.
> 
> Sorry guys.
> 
> (As before I don't have medical knowledge so feel free to correct my inaccuracies)

King Harrow felt a spike of alarm go through him when one of the castle infirmary staff interrupted his meeting. And he could swear his heart stopped for a moment when he heard his son’s name only for it to start again when the rest of the medics sentence caught up to him.

“King Harrow! I’m sorry to interrupt but Prince Ezran seems to have twisted his ankle and the Doctor thought you should be informed”

“Ahh, it's quite alright miss-”

“Elaina, your majesty” she gave an awkward curtsy, still half in the threshold.

“Miss Elaina, I am glad to have been informed” and he means it too, renegotiating the minutiae of trade agreements can only be interesting for so long. He rose from his chair and turned to the diplomats around him “if your lordships will excuse me, I must go to see my son.” and before they could get a word in he ushered Elaina out the door and let it swing shut behind him.

“Honestly, I thought that meeting would never end.” Elaina stared at him as his posture slumped from the tense formality to something much more tired, much more human.

“Well? My son awaits, lead the way” he slid the crown up his head with his fingertips, leaving his thumbs to massage his temples and the lines impressed across his brow before letting it drop.

“Ah, yes, your majesty” and she broke into the slightly quick walk of someone who was trying very hard not to ask questions.

Upon reaching the infirmary Harrow was glad to see Ez sitting up in bed, the doctor at his foot seemingly just finishing his wrapping of the ankle.

“Ah, your majesty, you're just in time for the young prince to hear his diagnosis”

“I swear I’m fine, Callum’s just a worrywart!” the prince on the bed objected.

Now addressing the king rather than his patient the doctor continued, “It’s tender and moderately inflamed, thankfully his half-brother had the good mind to wrap it immediately and keep him off of it. I’ll want to keep him here overnight, maybe through tomorrow till the swelling goes down, after that he will need to stay off of it for at least a week, possibly two” father and son alike groaned at that, keeping Ezran off his feet was a struggle of its own.

“Aside from that there's not much to be done but keeping it elevated and some potions for the pain.” The man trailed off before speaking again, hesitant and almost regretting it before he even started “Lord Verin might have,”

“No! No, we don’t need Lord Verin's kind of assistance for this” Harrow was quick to interject, the doctor had moved while speaking and now he was able to move to his sons side from where he had been standing past the foot of the bed. “Besides it will do Ezran’s studies some good if he isn’t distracted by his adventures for a while,” he said while ruffling the boys hair.

The doctor seemed to be trying to hide his relief, “Well I’ll go brew up something for the pain then, unless there was anything else you needed of me, my Lord?” at Harrows hand wave of dismissal the man returned to his back room with a perfunctory bow. 

“So tell me little man, how did it come to this?” Harrow settled to sit half on his sons bed, facing him.

“Well me and Callum- ”

“Callum and I”

“-Callum and I, were playing adventure in the woods when I found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest in a rocky hill face, well Callum insisted it was a cliff-face but anyway...” And really that's all Harrow needed to hear to understand what had happened. But he listened though his son's whole rambling tail all the same, pleased that his son could be so energetic and happy while in pain and stuck in bed. “...and so then he wrapped it up all tight like this and put it on this pile of pillows, which kinda makes me sit funny, and then you came in!”

“Does it hurt very badly?”

“Nope! It only hurt really when I stepped with it, and when the Doctor had me turning it funny to see how it was hurt. It was totally worth it to get that fledgling home though, the poor little guy was so scared and confused… and adorable! He had this little plume...” while Ezran talked Harrow started to survey the room, his son’s story had been thorough and he hasn't mentioned anything about his brother leaving. 

Sure enough his other son was curled up in a chair a quarter of the way across the room, obviously having fallen asleep drawing while watching Ezran get tended to. Harrow felt a flicker of concern, it wasn't even much into the dinner hour yet. But Ezran had said Callum had carried him for what sounded like a little over an hour, he could understand being tired, Ez did like his jelly tarts, he was so like his mother in that way.

“Do you know where your brother is?” he asked when Ez stopped his ramble about coloration and why the fledgling was out of the nest in the first place.  
“No, I don’t think he left but I was distracted by the whole,” a general hand wave to his propped up ankle.

Harrow pointed with his jaw to the sleeping Callum and Ezran turned his whole upper body to look behind him.

“Aww, hes so cute when hes sleeping!”

“Yes but you both need to eat after a full day of adventure, how about I wake him up and have him go scrounge up something from the kitchens and we can all eat in here with you,” Harrow always hated eating alone when sick, it really emphasized how disconnected from daily goings-on you were.

Ezran nodded with a little smile on his face. Harrow felt his knees crack as he stood up and made his way over to Callum. As he got closer he could see some sweat on Callum's brow but attributed it to the earlier exertion, even if it was rather cool outside. As he reached to gently shake Callum's shoulder he saw the barely begun sketch with a squiggly line trailing from the outline of a fingertip and couldn't help but smile at the implied drowsiness.

“Callum, hey Callum” speaking softly as he nudged his son's shoulder.

The slight motion was all it took for Callum to jump awake with a startled breath that quickly changed into a wheeze, his expression flooding with clear pain.

“Callum? Callum what's wrong?” Harrow dropped from where he was standing half over him to a partial crouch, looking his son in the eyes. Eyes, Harrow noted, as an icy panic washed through his bones, that had uneven pupils and weren't quite meeting his.

“Callum, where are you hurt?”

“Dad what's wrong?”

“Stay in bed Ezran” his tone was steel but he barely noticed.

“Is, Is Ez ok?” the words were strung together dazedly, half slurred as Callum swayed like he was trying to find the distance at which Harrow would be in focus.

“He’s fine.” more steel but wrapped in silk now; kind, but intent, “Callum, where are you injured?”

“My side? No that's not right..” a little less slurred, Harrow moved without thinking to give the boy space as he dropped his legs to the floor and made to stand, ready to offer a hand. He wasn’t ready when, as Callum turned in the seat and started to rise, he immediately dropped back down, folding to clutch at his chest with both hands.

“Chest! Hurt in the chest! It was the chest, yep” the words spilled out, like Callum himself was surprised by them, getting faster and shorter with Callum’s breathing.

Then Callum coughed, and Harrow told himself he imagined the mist of red in it, it was just him being paranoid, but there was only a moment before Callum coughed again, a dry rough thing and there was no denying the speckling of red on Callum's fist, he coughed four more times in quick succession and Harrow felt the icy panic change to something closer to dread. 

Callum tried to take a breath after coughing but seemed unable to, instead wheezing terribly, first a long breathy croak then higher and shorter as he lifted from where he was leaned over his knees, back now arching like he just needed to get his head high enough and he’d be able to breathe.

It was the worst thing Harrow had ever head, his son’s breathless gasping, rough and pained and frantic.

“DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP!” He heard himself screaming but didn’t notice as he couldn’t focus on anything but Callum.

Blood staining the corner of his lips as he gasped for air that he just couldn’t seem to reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say I was sorry.
> 
> Honestly though guys, I promise I didn't mean to, I'll try and get the real chapter I wanted to write, or at least part of it, out tonight sometime, and we can get into all the emotional angst rather than just the physical!
> 
> Also I just want to thank everyone for the comments and the Kudos. I've been reading fanfic and commenting myself for years but I never realized how happy I would be to receive them as an author myself. So please, any feedback will be cherished!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum is very confused as to why his actions(or rather inaction) upset his family. 
> 
> Sometimes caring hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback from all of you has been wonderful, thank you so much and thank you for reading! Without further ado please, have some angst:

When King Harrow jostled his shoulder Callum barely had time to startle before pain stole his breath and cut off all thought.

“Callum? Callum what's wrong?” The king was leaning down now, trying to make eye contact, but he was all fuzzy and out of focus. 

“Callum, where are you hurt?” He knew he was in pain but his entire body felt so far away, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Only that something was wrong and it hurt.

“Dad what's wrong?” That was Ez’s voice but the world beyond King Harrows shoulder was a meaningless wash of color.

“Stay in bed Ezran” right, Ez... Ez was injured- wasn’t he? They were in the infirmary. The pieces started to fall into place as his confusion began to abate. It was replaced by guilt and concern, he had let Ez get injured on his watch, what sort of protector was he?

“Is- is Ez ok?” His brothers health was the most important thing, everything else could wait. 

“He’s fine.” Callum couldn’t remember a time when the king had sounded so harsh and his mind raced as he tried to find the words to apologize. But before he could scrounge together his muddled thoughts the king continued, “Callum, where are you injured?” And that? That wasn’t what Callum was expecting at all.

“My side? No that's not right..” He responded to the firmness in the tone before he even really processed what he was saying. Thinking about it brought his body to his attention, seemingly pulling him from the far off place he had been. He realized he was curled up like a child in the seat, and quickly moved to sit up, to be a little more presentable.

But shifting was a bad idea. The wrongness in his chest flared to life, worse now than it had been at any point before and he curled in on himself like he had been struck. It was all consuming and he could tell he was still speaking, trying to distract himself from the wrongness inside of him, the way he was sure he would feel something shift if he tried to breath in deeply. But soon enough his air was gone and he needed to breathe again.

But that just turned into a coughing fit, which felt like thorns clawing their way up his throat, which made his whole body convulse like he was gagging. He tasted, felt the blood burning as it came up his throat, felt it land on the first he tried to stifle the coughs with. He was completely out of breath by the time the fit had ended and was glad that now he could finally get a good breath.

Unfortunately, his body had other plans. He saw the panic on the king's face as he tried to get a solid breath, as the air seemed to disappear between his mouth and his lungs. He could only gasp, body arching itself backwards as it felt like someone had grabbed him. Like they had reached into his chest and had gotten a fistful of his breath, of his soul, and were twisting it, trying to wrench it up and out of him.

He felt more than heard the room burst into noise over the sound of his wheezing. His head pounded with the barrage of noise and the lack of air. He could feel hands lifting him as he fell into a limp flop, as the color drained from the world. As his vision constricted until all he could see was the wide eyes of his king staring down at him. 

* * *

Callum would never admit it but he was just a little bit surprised to wake up. It would have been so convenient. Sure Ez would be upset, but he was a kid, kids are resilient. Yes, one day Ez may have figured it out and have been furious, Callum can imagine it: a teenage Ezran barging into the king's bedroom, tears in his eyes and accusation on his lips. 

He knew Ez would be furious but at that point there would be nothing to be done. The line of succession would be simple once more, through royal blood alone. All it would have taken was for him to just not have woken up. And he could tell how wrong his breathing had gotten, he knew that people had died from less.

He tried not to think about how he hadn’t even tried to get help despite knowing it was that bad.

He drew a cautious breath, shallow, and noticed that while he could tell there was something off he could actually inhale without the wrongness shifting. He opened his eyes and blinked at the wall of the infirmary, he was carefully propped up in bed so that he had been almost sitting upright in his sleep. His next breath was full and deep and he had never been so thankful for air.

“Ah, your awake” it was the voice of the heavyset doctor from earlier “you gave us quite the scare there” he was sitting to one side where he could keep an eye each on the two brothers to either side of him.

Callum breathed deeply again, just to be sure he had the air to speak, it felt wonderful “What” his voice was rough and his throat sore “what happened?”

“From what the King and I have surmised when you caught the prince from his fall you both hit your head and broke one of your ribs. You then carried the prince for upwards of an hour with said broken rib and at some point it punctured your lung. You then, rather than requesting medical assistance passed out in one of my chairs. When the King went to wake you one of your lungs collapsed which sent him into quite a panic and rather upset the prince.” The man seemed slightly exasperated at Callum but on the whole more concerned with the upset it caused the king and his other patient.

“Is,” Callum paused as he remembered the glare he had gotten earlier, “is prince Ezran alright?”

The doctor seemed pleased by the inquiry, “The young prince will need to stay off his foot for a few days and won't be up to running around for a week or two but he will be alright. For now however I believe he is asleep, he wore himself out in his concern for you” a pause for a moment as the doctor seemed to consider his own words, before continuing “as for the king I believe he will be back shortly, he went to get dinner brought to you and the prince asked him to find his pet, what was it? Lure?”

“Bait.”

“Ah my apologies, the prince asked him to find Bait and bring him here”

Callum couldn’t help but smile and make a jab at the glow toad, even in his absence“ he’ll be back pretty soon then. Bait is notoriously bad at hiding” He pauses a moment and then lets the joking drop from his tone “so you said, a broken rib punctured my lung?” a nod from the doctor, “what, how did you fix it?”

“Honestly there isn’t much we can do, your lung managed to re-inflate on its own so now it's a matter of making sure that it doesn't collapse again or get re-punctured as the wound heals. We're going to be having someone watch you for the next couple days as it could happen again and we might have to do more to fix it than just wrap your chest and prop you up if it's much worse than the first time. You’ll not be moving very far or fast for a while to minimize the risk and let it heal” and really that didn’t sound too bad to Callum, it would give him an excuse to skip blade training and horseback riding for a while and just work on his sketches.

The room fell into quite silence for a few moments as the Doctor went back to his book and Callum started to let his mind wander, thinking of what he wanted to draw in his new free time. 

Callum may have fallen into a light doze but he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that suddenly King harrow was in front of him looking half disheveled. His crown was a little crooked on his brow and his hair under it was, while not a mess, a far cry from its usual order. His coat was a little crooked and he had one sleeve pushed up on an arm carrying a tray laden with three bowls and a pile of jelly tarts, while the other was rolled down, protecting his arm from Bait’s drool where he had the toad pined between his arm and body.

“Oh, Callum, you’re awake!” the King sounded pleased but sad and kept his voice subdued as to not wake Ezran.

The doctor responded as Callum tried to figure out how to be at respectful attention while propped up by pillows and shirtless aside from bandages. “Ah yes, he woke up just a few minutes ago and seems to be doing well, I’ll leave you be, My Lord. Do get me if his breathing seems off, and let me know when you leave so that someone can come to watch him” and with that the doctor got up and left once more.

King Harrow dropped Bait onto Ez’s bed where he found and open spot by his side and settled down into his usual lethargic glare. And then Callum found himself being handed a bowl of soup and at the focus of the Kings attention.

“Are you feeling alright now?” the king had put down the platter, took the now empty chair and a bowl for himself but making no move to start eating.  
“I, yes, I feel much better now” Callum wanted to fidget under the weight of the attention but instead ate a spoonful of soup to occupy his hands. 

“I’m glad, but Callum, why? Why didn’t you tell the doctor you were injured?”

“I didn’t really think it was that bad”

“You were coughing blood and wheezing like you couldn't breath,”

“I just, Ez was hurt and I wanted to make sure he was looked after, I didn’t mean to fall asleep it just kinda happened” He knew that it was disrespectful but he spoke into his soup ranter than looking back up and seeing the ire he knew was there.

“Callum, you passed out, twice. Why wouldn’t you just ask for help?”

“Ez will always come first, I let him get injured in the first place and I know I'm not good enough at fighting to actually protect him from a real threat- but this was something I could do. I just wanted to be sure he was ok.”

“You did a great job of making sure he was physically ok, but Callum, you really scared him, the entire time the doctor was tending to you all I could do was hold him while he cried. He was so upset that you were hurt that badly and he hadn’t noticed. That you didn’t tell him. If you had we would have been able to help you faster, we could have gotten you seen to and maybe your lung wouldn’t have collapsed.” He had an odd edge to his voice, it wasn't the kings usual countenance but rather tight with something Callum couldn’t place.“Please Callum, let us know if your hurt, even if you want Ez looked after first then we at least know that you also need help.”

“I, ok” The food lost its taste as Callum tried to figure out what to make of the conversation. He didn’t understand why this was seemingly so important to the King. Sure he shouldn’t have upset Ez by passing out like that, and yes he probably could have told someone that he was injured but it really wasn't that big a deal, was it?

It seemed that King Harrow realized his confusion as he backed off of the conversation, finally taking note of his own food, halfheartedly stirring it. “But you’re still concussed and ought to be exhausted, we can talk more when you’re feeling a bit better”

Callum wasn’t sure what more needed to be said but he was thankful for the reprieve all the same. Maybe the king was right and this would all make more sense in the morning. 

They both finished their food in only kind of awkward silence before the king got up to place a log on the low burning hearth in the back of the room. Callum dosed of to what sounded suspiciously like Bait waking Ezran up and the low murmur of voices.

* * *

When Callum next awoke the first rays of dawn were only starting to creep their way across the star speckled corner of sky visible from the infirmary windows. Before he really thought about what he was doing Callum went to sit up, but between already being propped by pillows and his broken rib the motion was aborted and instead turned into an awkward lurch to awareness.

“Good morning Prince Callum,” it was one of the assistants from the day before who had now taken the chair between the beds. She smiled kindly at him as she dropped her needle point to her lap. “How are you this morning?” her voice was soft, just barely over a whisper.

“Oh, um I’m fine I guess” he was barely awake and talking to a stranger and couldn't move his barely clothed chest. He reminded himself that she was studying medicine, she wouldn’t be embarrassed by his undress, so as long as he pretended not to be it would be fine. 

Her expression turned dubious and she seemed about to say something when the other bed shifted and suddenly a mess of black hair popped up from the pale sheats, half clouding Ez’s face before he reached up to push it back and rub his eyes.

“Mppphph,” no sooner had his eyes opened than he was seemingly fully awake, “Callum! Your awake!” He was almost half way out of bed before he realised that he really shouldn't be moving his ankle, evidenced by a wince.

“Well, look at that Ez, it seems that I am” He grinned a little at his brother even as he felt the ugly head of guilt rise up in him at his brothers pain.

The apprentice looked between the two of them a moment before interjecting “How about I go into the back and get you two something for the pain.” she then fixed Ez with a look “I can trust you to shout if his breathing goes funny right?”

“Right”

Then with no more than a knowing smile she slipped into the back room.

They sat in silence for a heartbeat and Callum could swear he felt the cheer leave the room.

Ez had sat up in bead as much as his ankle allowed and had gathered bait into a bone crushing hug to his chest before he spoke “Callum, why didn’t you say you were hurt?” and that tone was much too serious for a kid Ez’s age and he looked entirely too sad but there was nothing Callum could do about it.

“I’ll always put you first Ez, It’s my job.” he tried to make it lighthearted, to get that look of Ez’s face. Maybe, maybe if Ez understood he wouldn’t be so sad.

“But why?” and now he could see the dampness in his brothers eyes and was trying to figure out what more he had done wrong.

“I’m your older brother, even if I’m bad at it and mess up everything else I’ll always put you first.” He knew better than to talk about succession with Ez, the topic always made his brother shut down, and Callum could understand, losing a second parent wasn’t something anyone liked to speculate about.

Nonetheless a part of him wanted to just tell Ez, just explain to him that he would never see the throne- that while Ez had the right blood Callum was a nobody that by luck alone got treated to the life of royalty. He wanted Ez to understand that this was the way things should be, that Ezran was the future of the kingdom and would always be scores more important than anything related to Callum. Part of him knew saying that would only upset Ezran more and so he refrained. The pain in his chest was echoed by something deeper in his gut that rolled at the thought of making Ezran cry.

“You could have said something though, so that we knew you were hurt!” and now the tears had gotten lost in the flush of anger on Ezran’s cheeks.

“Yah, your dad said the same thing,”

“That’s because dad and I are right! You should let people know when you hurt!” Baits face had turned purple and Callum was pretty sure it wasn’t because of his natural ability to color change but rather had something to do with the way his brother was squeezing him to his chest. “It was so scary when all the sudden I could just hear you gasping and then dad was shouting and carrying you and you just looked so dead!” 

Callum was about to apologize, the words on his lips, but then Ezran continued, “you know who else would tell you you were a big dummy! That you would have scared like you did me and Dad?” please say aunt Amaya, he couldn’t handle the other option, not right now, “MOM! Mom wouldn't want you risking yourself for me and getting hurt for me, she wouldn’t--”

 

“DON’T Say That! Don’t tell me what mom would have wanted!” for a moment everything else about the situation no longer mattered. He just. He couldn’t. No one. No one got to tell him that. He would give them everything else. That was his.

A moment of stunned silence before reality snapped back with the sound of a door being flung open. All three of the medical staff from before poured out, confusion and alarm painting tired faces.

A hitching sound drew Callums attention back to Ez, Ez who was still crying. Because of him.

Callum was out the door before another word could be spoken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into the meat of it now! The conversation at the end of this chapter was half the motivation for this story. 
> 
> I finally wrote down the outline for the rest of the story, hence the chapter count, but it may take longer. Additionally I've been having ideas for some scenes after the arc of this story but based off of its events. To say more would be telling but is anyone interested? If so should I add it to this story or created a series and make them their own work?
> 
> As before feedback is always welcome! Thanks again for reading and for how nice all of you are!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one has the emotional capacity to have these conversations, but they need to be had.

The sound of Callum's wheezing, the way his back had arched and the feeling of helplessness that had accompanied it haunted Harrow’s dreams. When he jolted awake he didn’t bother with his morning ritual of rolling over and fighting the dawn with a sort of willful ignorance in the pursuit of just a little more sleep. Rather he pulled himself out of bed, the confusion on Callum's face yesterday haunting him now that he was awake somehow yet more terrifying than the dream.

He resolved to himself that at least in this he was not helpless. He needed no doctor to tell him what was wrong with his son, he didn’t need to stand by helpless with Callum’s safety in someone else's hands. Not for this, this was something he could figure out himself.

He barely noticed the guards surprise at him emerging from his bedroom hours earlier than normal. He noticed little of the empty hallways on his way to the infirmary, determination filling his steps as they echoed through the dawn-grey corridors. 

As he neared the infirmary a new sound accompanied his purposeful foot falls, one that only served to hasten them yet more, the guise of focus gave up its facade, showing itself to be something a little more akin to panic.

Ezran was crying. Sobbing.

He refused to think what it could mean, if something had happened to Callum he would have been sent for, certainly. Emerging into the room he froze for a moment in confusion over the empty bed. Empty was better than the alternative, right? Unless, had he been kidnapped? But why take Callum and not also take Ezran, if anything Ezran was easier to abduct by size alone- he cut off his own speculations, knowing they would do him no good and he would only work himself up.

He made himself look up from the vacant bed to take in the rest of the room. No one had noticed his entrance amongst all the pre-existing upheaval and so he had a moment to observe the evident fallout of... something. 

Ezran was holding Bait and crying into the toads lack of a neck while Elaina crouched near him, trying to offer him the remaining jelly tarts from the night before.The doctor was standing awkwardly just past the foot of Ezran's bed seemingly waiting for the boy to calm down enough to be spoken to, the shadow of a scowl on his usually kind face.

He forced himself once more into motion, addressing the room but looking at the doctor as he moved to Ezran's side,“What’s the meaning of this? Where’s Callum?” This only sent Ezran into another bout of tears as Elaina scurried back and let Harrow scoop his son up into his lab as best he could without disturbing the boy’s ankle overmuch. 

The Doctor broke from his absent glaring at the wall, seemingly too agitated and startled by the king's presence to remember formal greetings “That's what we are trying to figure out!” his tone was tight with frustration and exasperation “Callum apparently woke Prince Ezran and, in the time it took for Elaina to fetch them something for the pain he had upset the Prince so." His scowl was deep-set and Harrow was surprised by how natural it seemed on the face of someone usually so affable, "By the time we came out of the backroom in response to the ruckus we only managed only to see Callum fleeing from the room.” 

Good, not kidnapped then, “And did anyone follow him?”

“Ah, no Your Majesty, were were concerned for the Prince...” his voice trailed off, embarrassed but not enough.

“And you didn’t think that if Prince Ezran were this upset Prince Callum would likely be upset as well?” he didn’t particularly care that he had placed extra emphasis on Callums title, not in response to the scolding tone in the doctor’s voice. At least the Doctor had the good sense to look chastened. At that moment, as if to evidence the oversight, the other apprentice emerged from the back room holding the aforementioned pain draught.

“I see” Harrow tried his best to keep his tone even despite the fact Ezran was still crying in his lap and these people had let his other son run off while injured. Don’t think about the dream of Callums breathing stopping altogether, of his face going pale and blue. Don’t. “Then I would ask you to figure out where Prince Callum has gone and insure that he has not re-punctured his lung. Otherwise you are dismissed.” 

There was the brief exchanging of looks as the medical staff had a silent conversation before the apprentice holding the potion placed it on a nearby table and left for the hall while Elaina and the Doctor left to the backroom once more. 

The room fell silent save for Ezrans tears being muffled by his coat. While he waited for his boy to calm down he couldn't help but stew over the explanation given by the doctor. Over the hostility in the usually genteel man's tone towards Callum. Harrow didn’t mind the palace staff dropping titles when in private, he even occasionally encouraged it when appropriate. But the way the Doctor had been referring to Ezan only as the prince but Callum by name, with disdain- It made Harrows hackles rise defensively, it brought to mind the broken expression on Callum's face that, try as he might, he couldn't make himself attribute to the concussion alone. 

A good part of him wants to go hunt down Callum himself. To go and have that conversation right this minute. But the weight of his son on his lap stopped him. Better to console Ezran first, and maybe in the process figure out what had upset the two of them so badly. Though if his own reactions were anything to go buy he could hazard a guess. 

Besides to chase down Callum now would to go in uninformed.

It was one of the few things Sarai and Viren had always agreed about: To enter a confrontation uninformed is to have already lost.

* * *

When Harrow left the infirmary somewhere just under an hour later Ez was medicated, and asleep once more and Harrow was a rolling mass of concern.

A few words to the guards stationed throughout the hallways had him arriving at Callums door, where the apprentice from before was standing outside. Before Harrow had a chance to lecture the man on the importance of his sons health he was already explaining himself, “I’m sorry My Lord but he won’t let me in! I’ve been making sure he is still alright by having him speak to me every few minutes! I’m sorry!” Harrow figured he must have let some of the venom he was feeling slip into his expression if his arrival merited such a response.

He tried not to wonder if the medic would have done the same if it had been Ezran. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath before intentionally keeping his tone flat “It’s fine, you are dismissed.”

The apprentice was gone with a barely whispered “my lord” nearly as soon as Harrow was done speaking.

And Harrow was left to his sons door.

“Callum? Callum, I know that you are in there, can I come in?”

He heard the sound of halting footfalls and waited a moment before he heard the lock on the door disengage. He gave Callum a moment to retreat from the door before hesitantly pushing it open.

He barely had gotten himself inside and the door shut behind him before Callum started speaking, his voice soft and still hoarse but now with the added brokenness of recent tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. I promise, I’m sorry.”

Harrow made himself take a moment to look at the Callum, to let himself be sure he was ok. Callum was holding himself awkwardly, visibly in pain. Shivering in the morning air, still shirtless besides the wrapping on his chest. He was looking at the ground between them but Harrow could nonetheless see the tear trails on his cheeks that it seemed Callum was determined to pretend didn’t exist, Harrow watched as Callum made a few aborted movements as if he was afraid wiping the tears away would draw attention to them. 

“Callum,” Harrow ducked his head a bit, trying to catch the prince's eyes, or at the very least make his concern clear “Callum, its ok”

“But, but,” Callum took a deep breath and seemed to try and brace himself for his own words, or perhaps Harrow’s reaction to therm. The thought burned. ”But I made Ez cry!” He sounded horrified by the fact which only twisted the concern in Harrow’s chest tighter “I shouted at him and made him cry” he broke off then, trying to stifle his now obvious tears, wiping ashamedly at his face.

“You probably should be sorry, but that’s not why” and now Callum finally looked up at him confused, his eyes red and brimming, “Callum you really scared us, running off like this could have ended up with you injured even worse and no one knowing where you are to help you, please let us look after you”

Callum resisted the conversational shift, to hung up on a single point “But I shouted at Ez. I made him cry! In front of the doctor even!”

“Callum it’s alright, you’re brothers, if anything it’s unusual how little two you fight” and as he spoke Harrow started to wonder about that too in the light of Callum’s comments from the day before. “Yes, you really upset Ezran, the fact that the doctor was present is of no importance” and Harrow saw Callum bite back a comment at that but continued on “but you shouting at him was only the last weight that tipped the scales, last night you really scared him last night and your conversation this morning didn't help matters.” He drew a hand down his face, getting worked up right now wouldn’t help Callum understand. “Callum, he was so upset because he feels guilty.”

“Guilty?” Finally something had gotten Callum to think past the fact that he had made Ez cry. Harrow was glad to see the timid edge of curiosity on the tear streaked face, anything other than the wracked expression the boy had had. 

“Yes, he was upset because he realizes that you were putting his discomfort over your own health and safety. It scared him to notice how much you do for him without even questioning it. When I went to see you two this morning he was still crying." Callum was visibly about to interject at this information and Harrow was quick to cut him off "-But! He told me it was because he realized that he couldn’t remember you contradicting him before. It scared him to think that he might be using you without even knowing it” honestly Harrow himself had been taken aback at Ezran’s reading of the situation, that he would have that much empathy and emotional understanding at his age was remarkable, so much like his mother, he was going to a great king. 

He stopped for a breath and made sure he had Callums eyes before he continued, “Callum, you can't let him tell you what to do without ever thinking about yourself, sure you can go along with what he wants but you have to at least let him know what you would like, or more importantly if you need something else. You can’t do this again” he gestured to the bandages wound around Callum’s chest, "you can’t put his needs so far above your own that you don’t tell us you’re injured”

Callum dropped eye contact as Harrow spoke, the ferocity from earlier dropped from his voice instead now monotone and a bit uncertain, like he was reminding Harrow of the color of the sky but trying to be polite about it “But its my place”

“Callum-”Harrow tried to interject gently but it only seemed to upset Callum once more.

“You say these things and I know you mean well but it just isn’t true” Callum had balled his hands while they were talking but now he let go, gesticulating freely as he seemed to finally brake, beginning to rant. Harrow was tempted to interrupt but he realized quickly that this was something Callum needed to say; that he had been holding this in and if he were to speak now the boy would never get past whatever this was.

“I don’t matter as much as Ez and that's ok! You don’t like to acknowledge it but we all know it! It's the banther in the room! He’s going to be king some day and I won’t!” Was that what this was about? Harrow had thought he had made it clear to Callum that he would enter the line of succession before he had married Sarai, had Callum thought that changed with her death?

“He’s the Crown prince! Hell always come first, he’ll always be more important than me! You said it doesn’t matter that the doctor saw but what sort of image does that present? Me yelling at the heir? It makes him look weak, what about when he takes the throne? Will they question his strength when I'm standing by his throne if they can remember me bossing him around when he was a child? I can’t challenge him, not when it matters so much for his image the kingdom!”

Harrow, Harrow didn’t know when his boys had gotten so mature, when Callum had started to worry about the eventualities of succession and affairs of state. He wanted to save them from the harsh realities of politics for just a little longer. But the cat was out of the bag now he just had to do his best to save what he could of Callum’s freedom of childhood.

“I’m not going to agree with you on all of that, but at the very least it would have done no harm to Ezran’s or the kingdoms image if you had told us you were injured.” He tried to keep his tone as kind as he could despite the anger that rushed through him at the way Callum thought of himself. “You could have both have been being tended to but instead, Callum, you almost died”, Harrow refrained from adding that he scared a few years of the kings life in doing so and that was hardly in the best interest of the kingdom, was it? 

Callum paused for a minute, weather to catch his breath or to consider Harrows words, or both. Harrow wasn’t sure.

“I guess. It’s just, I’ve already taken so much” he ran a hand through his hair, before patting at it, seemingly surprised to remember his head was also bandaged. “You’ve already done so much for me that you could have much more easily just not have done.” his eyes catch on the desk to the side of the room, seemingly now looking at anything but Harrow.

“You get me all sorts of art supplies, you put me in the line of succession”, the fact that Callum was mentioning it now despite his earlier comments only served to confused Harrow more “You let me live, Let me live in the castle.”

That? That broke Harrow out of his confusion. He wished so badly that he could believe that that had just been a stutter, that emotion was just making Callum repeat himself, he knew that that often happened to children. But the far off look on Callum's face, the way he had been talking about himself, his concern with the appearance of the kingdom mad it hard to deny. Harrow could feel himself blanch as the blood drained from his face and his stomach turned from the implications. As much as he was more adept to deal with this than medicine he suddenly felt this was still leagues beyond his ability to fix. But this was Callum and he would be damned if he didn’t try.

Callum however was oblivious to Harrows realization and continued, seemingly determined to break the king’s heart “you’ve given me everything I need or could think to ask for. I know I’m just a kid, but but I know how these things work, I know you could have made things a lot easier, I hear the gossip at least as much as you do.” Harrow didn’t know what Callum was talking about, but given the vein of Callums thoughts he could guess and suddenly he felt the strong need to have a few specific conversations with the most prolific of the castles gossip mongers. “But, I'm still here and so I’m not going to interrupt the doctor when Ez needs looking after just because my chest feels off, I know I can wait. I won’t make you look bad or give the gossipers more to work with when you’ve been so kind to me.” As he finished all the fight seemed to drop out of Callum, shoulders sagging and hands dropping once more to his sides.

Harrow, despite his crown, felt absolutely powerless as Callum looked up at him, earnest and resigned, accepting this as the way things ought to be. He felt completely impotent in the face of the fact that Sarai’s son thought that he was lucky that Harrow hadn’t had him killed. Callum hadn’t said it out right but he had said everything short of it. There was no denying Callums meaning. 

He could feel tears try to escape his eyes and fought them off, tears wouldn’t fix this. What could? Harrow took a deep breath, everything else could be worked out latter but what mattered right now was keeping Callum safe and maybe something closer to happy. He was a King, he talked people into and out of agreements all day. He could find a reason for Callum to ask for help.

He forced back the onslaught of emotions to best make his case “Again, all of that aside Callum you not getting help looks bad for the kingdom too” a flicker of doubt crossed Callum’s face and Harrow ran with the argument, hoping it would be enough, “What will people think if you let yourself be treated like this despite us calling you part of the royal family? If one of the princes of the kingdom's injuries go untreated for no reason? They might think that our words have so little power that we can't even make the kingdom respect one person, even by fiat.” Something in Harrow squirmed uncomfortably at the argument, but he ignored it because Callum actually seemed to be listening, seems to finally be realizing his inaction may not have been the best decision. 

As Callum’s expression soured Harrow himself realized that that was probably enough, that Callums was clever enough to extrapolate. “Hey, it’s all right, I know you were doing what you thought was best at the time, don’t be too hard on yourself. ” Harrow had had enough crying for one morning, though it was rapidly approaching midday now that he considered it, he probably should go deal with the trade agreement he had walked out on the night before, the embassy was planning to leave this afternoon. Also now that the emotions in the room had settled a little Harrow could once more see the pain in the way Callum was holding himself.

“How about this, you just promise me that you’ll let Ez or me know if you need something, alright? Promise not to suffer in silence?” He said it as gently as he could, hating that he needed so badly to be reassured that Callum would ask for help.

It took Callum a few moments to consider the proposal, like it wasn’t the default to tell your family if you were hurt, before responding, voice now barely a whisper “I’ll try” as he finally gave in and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“Good. I think there’s quite a bit we still need to talk about,” he hated how short the shadows outside had gotten, “but I think Opeli will stage a coup if I don’t go to at least one of my morning meetings. Now, are you going to let the Doctor in or do I have to carry you back to the infirmary?” Harrow could understand disliking the space but he couldn’t handle the thought of Callum’s lung collapsing again with no one there to do something about it, he also suspected the brothers might need to let their emotions settle a little before being stuck next to each other.

“I’ll let them in, especially if it's that girl apprentice..” Callum was timid about it but Harrow couldn’t help but waggle his eyebrows, desperate to leave one lighter note, “what? Ewww, no! It’s just, the doctor and the other guy both seem not to like me very much,” Callum was suddenly transfixed by his hands “they kind of make me uncomfortable.”

Harrow was reminded of the Doctors tone earlier and suddenly understood, but he tried not to let it steal the good humor from him, “I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you lay down and get yourself settled. I’ll send Elaina by on my way to the meeting.” he added a little flourish to her name, just enough to mortify Callum into blushing.

They were both smiling a little as Harrow left the room and he know that there was still a lot more than need to be said but that didn’t explain his building anxiety. He could feel the unease growing as he walked down the hallway: he was unsettled- like putting your foot through a step that wasn’t there. 

He told himself he had his meeting to deal with, that Callum would fine.

Then why did it feel so much like he had messed something up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the second of the scenes that made me feel like I had to write this story, I hope that I conveyed it well enough. Regardless, thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it! 
> 
> All feedback will be treasured!
> 
> (Update! Finaly had the courage to look at this again, all 4 chapters have finally been edited, but no major changes- additionally Chapter 5 is once more being worked on! Sorry for the wait!!)


End file.
